


Rain or Shine and Everything In-Between

by HardNoctLife



Series: The Love Between (the Four of) Us [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst and Humor, Chocobros - Freeform, Domestic, Domestic Boyfriends, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Foursome, Foursome - M/M/M/M, Gay, Gay Sex, M/M, Multi, OT4, Polyamory, Polyship Roadtrip, author’s favorite, polyship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2020-06-09 23:11:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19485940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HardNoctLife/pseuds/HardNoctLife
Summary: There are important relationship questions you should be able to answer about you and your significant other, and for Noctis Lucis Caelum and his (boy)friends, there are multiple answers to those questions, because when you have several lovers, there tends to be a lot of variability.Things like:Who says "it's muggy" outside after putting all the mugs on the front lawn, and who threatens to break up with them for saying it?Who likes Frozen best, and who likes the Little Mermaid better?Who consistently flirts, and who is oblivious to it?Who sings in the shower, and who raps in the shower?Who is crying and affectionate when drunk, and who is loud and happy?Just like the constantly changing weather, somedays are sunny and some are stormy, and sometimes it rains when the sun is still shining. You never know what you're going to get, but one thing is for certain--always bring an umbrella.





	1. A Muggy Winter

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a set of vignettes that I wrote in response to a writing prompt I found on tumblr, and it became something else entirely so I decided to just run with it.
> 
> **Don’t be shy! I respond to all comments and welcome any fanart. Hit me up for art exchanges on tumblr @hard-noct-life**

“It’s pretty muggy outside.”

“Prompto, it’s winter. It’s not _muggy_ outside, it’s—” Gladio Amicitia stopped as he peered out the front window of the townhouse onto the small patch of green, the best hundred square feet of grass you could buy in the middle of downtown Insomnia. The pathetic excuse for a lawn was currently spotted with array of colors, covered in a variety of coffee cups.

Prompto was snorting, unable to muffle his cackling laugh.

“Ha ha, very funny. Now put all those mugs back in the cabinet before Ignis notices they’re gone.” Gladio plopped down on the couch, wearing only his sweatpants, and flipped open the newspaper sitting on the coffee table in front of him, trying not to smile as he heard Prompto’s laugh drawing nearer. Gladio saw the man’s mop of blond hair out of the corner of his eye as it poked into his periphery, but he kept his eyes trained on the black and white paragraph in front of him.

 _Prince Noctis Moves into Town Home with Royal Retainers_ the headline read.

Gladio marveled that something so asinine counted as news nowadays. Shouldn’t they be reporting on something more significant? Like the continued conquests of Niflheim, or the fact that the Oracle was essentially being held captive in her own country? But _noooo_ , the prince’s sleeping and eating habits were way more fascinating.

Prompto had continued to inch closer to Gladio until his nose was almost touching the larger man’s cheek. With a little sigh, Gladio set the newspaper down—he hadn’t been reading it anyway—patting the space next to him. Grinning, Prompto did a dive roll over the back of the couch, landing with a _poof!_ and sinking into the worn leather. Putting one muscled arm around Prompto, Gladio gave him his best side-eye, lips curving up at the edges.

“C’mon, it was a _little_ funny,” Prompto prodded. The smaller boy draped one pale leg over Gladio’s lap, chocobo-patterned boxers drooping at his hips with the movement. 

Before Gladio could insist on how _not_ funny it was—totally lame, actually, who are you, a _dad_?—the front door opened and both of them jerked their heads up guiltily even though they had done nothing wrong. Prompto pulled his leg out of Gladio’s lap to sit cross legged, freckled face turning pink.

Ignis Scientia, holding two bags of groceries in his arms, pushed the door open with his foot, letting it swing shut behind him as he surveyed his two roommates. Prompto smiled hopefully, eyebrows raising, while Gladio opted for a more neutral look, waiting for Ignis to speak.

Clearing his throat gently, Ignis shifted both bags into one arm, adjusting his glasses with his now free hand.

“It’s a bit muggy outside,” Ignis mentioned slyly.

“ _See_?! Iggy _gets_ me!”

* * *

“ _Dude,_ _The Little Mermaid_ beats _Frozen_ , hands down!”

Ignis chuckled to himself from where he could hear Prompto in the living room. Tying his apron, he set to work chopping the vegetables, taking care to slice them evenly. The debate raged on, and every so often, Ignis could catch the flash of an image reflected on his glasses from the TV nearby.

“I like _Frozen_ ’s music better. ‘Let It Go’ _slaps_ , man. There, I said it.” Now both Gladio and Prompto were yelling, and Ignis made a ‘shh’ that went unacknowledged.

“ _Little Mermaid_ is a classic—way better music, but I like my girls with legs. And magic powers,” Gladio teased, and Ignis shook his head to himself, knowing he was just trying to rile both of them now.

“Do you even like girls?” came Noctis’s taunt, and Ignis could _see_ Gladio’s grin, even with his back turned.

“I like girls. I like boys. I like anything with _two legs_ so long as they can spread—”

“Gladiolus,” Ignis sing-songed in warning. The three turned from where they sat on the couch, a trio of ‘o’ shaped mouths in a row. Ignis realized he was brandishing a knife in his hand, glasses sliding down his nose, and that he must have been comically intimidating, even with an apron on. When they stared for a while longer, Ignis set the blade down carefully, tilting his head into a question mark.

“What is it?” he finally prodded, perplexed.

“Hey Iggy, do that again.” Noctis urged, the prince’s eyes sparkling with wonder.

“Hmm?”

“Sing—Gladio’s name!” Prompto chirped, half his body now dangling over the back of the furniture in his enthusiasm.

“Glad-i-o-lus,” Ignis chimed, a sweet and smooth tenor, and the o’s became Cheshire cat grins.

“Can you imagine Iggy in Elsa’s dress? Now _that’s_ a movie I would watch!” Gladio crowed, and he gave Ignis a look that made the bespectacled man actually _blush_ , although he would deny it later.

“Oh, come now, it’s nothing special,” he protested, returning to his mincing.

“Hey, I bet Ignis could do a _great_ rendition of ‘Part of Your World,’” Prompto started talking excitedly, and Ignis laughed under his breath when Noctis said:

“I’d pay to hear him sing ‘Let It Go.’”

* * *

The snow was falling lightly outside, and it was _finally_ the weekend, which meant sleeping in. Or it should have meant sleeping in.

Gladio felt a pair of cold feet press into his side and groaned, swatting at the limbs that clawed around his torso. He opened one eye to see a familiar golden head as it burrowed beneath the comforter.

“You got your own bed,” Gladio growled sleepily. What the fuck time was it, anyway? From the gray light barely peeking through the blinds, it had to be early.

“I know, but this one’s warmer.” Prompto’s soft voice was muffled beneath the sheets, and Gladio let his eyes slide shut.

“Mmhmm…well, it’s warmer when you have a cuddle buddy.” Gladio was speaking quietly, because Ignis was still asleep next to him, and although he tended to sleep heavy after a long work week, the prince’s advisor would wake up at the slightest creak of the bed or floorboards. Noctis was a bear to wake up in the mornings, but he was only sullen about it. Ignis was a malboro if disturbed before his time, unleashing his fury on everyone and spewing poison until he had his coffee. Turning a little to allow Prompto to snake his small arms around him from behind, Gladio threw one arm around Ignis, pulling him in tight against his chest.

A Gladio sandwich. 

With his hair down and glasses off, Ignis’s face was as soft and serene as the falling snow outside. Gladio loved seeing him with his hair down. It made him look vulnerable— _human_.

“Noctis sucks at cuddling,” Prompto whispered after a moment. “He’s all _limbs_ when he sleeps, and he hogs the bed.” Gladio’s laugh was a low purr.

“You just gotta hold him tighter.” The larger one mumbled his answer, already drifting back to sleep again. Gladio’s body was sore from Crownsguard training, but in the good way. He had conked out as soon as his head hit the pillow the night before, and he was surprised Prompto hadn’t done the same. Then again, Prompto was like a coeurl—full of electric energy and always on the prowl, simply because he didn’t know any other way to be. It’s what Gladio loved about him.

“Hey, Gladio?”

“Go to sleep, Prom,” Gladio moaned a little and Ignis shifted in his arms, sighing in his sleep. Gladio pulled him in tight in response and planted a kiss at the base of his neck. Then he felt Prompto rub the tip of his cold nose in-between his shoulder blades and tensed a little, resisting the urge to kick him.

“Gladio, if the media finds out… about _us_. Do you think they’ll take Noct away?” Prompto spoke so quietly that Gladio almost didn’t hear him.

They? He meant King Regis and his advisors. _They_ —the almighty ‘crown.’

Gladio’s eyes bolted open at the thought, all traces of sleep fleeing from his body. He stared ahead silently and fought to keep his breathing even, heartbeat thundering in his temples. If Prompto saw the panic in his eyes, he’d _know_.

He often wondered the same thing—he had just been too afraid to say it out loud. As if it speaking it would make it _real_ , breaking the spell they had all so carefully crafted.

Like a coeurl, Prompto was also fearless. It was his nature, and Gladio couldn’t even hold it against him.

“…go to sleep, Prompto.” Gladio’s instructions were softer this time, and he freed one arm from Ignis’s waist and reached back, patting Prompto gently on his bare hip. 

For a long time, Gladio thought Prompto would say something else, but eventually he heard the blond’s deep, sleepy breaths, and he laid there listening to them, wide awake.

* * *

“I’ll pay you 100 crowns to eat that right now.” Gladio had his arms crossed over his chest as he sat opposite of the prince, a lazy grin on his face.

“I don’t even know what _it_ is!” Noctis complained as he stared down at the plate. He poked at the gray substance, and it _jiggled_. He fought to keep down the bile that rose in his throat at the sight.

“Nobody tell ‘im,” Prompto giggled, practically bouncing up and down. Ignis stood beside Prompto behind Noctis, lips pressed into a thin line. He wasn’t giving anything away.

“You need to give me more than 100 crowns,” the prince decided stubbornly. “I had a long day of boring council meetings and _this_ is what I come home to?” he whined, hoping _someone—anyone—_ would take pity on him. Three pairs of eyes blinked back at him, unyielding.

“I ate it,” Gladio said proudly. “It was damn good, too.”

“You’ll eat _anything_ ,” Noctis grumbled. Ignis rested one hand on the prince’s shoulder and lowered his head slowly, murmuring into the prince’s ear. Prompto and Gladio both watched with interest as Noctis’s face went from pink, to red, to crimson in short succession, like a lava lamp changing colors. Gladio and Prompto exchanged a look, one wondering what Ignis could have possibly said, and the other knowing full well.

Sighing heavily, Noctis finally picked up his spoon and dipped it lightly into the pile of mush, getting the smallest amount possible. Closing his eyes, he put it into his mouth reluctantly, frowning so deeply that lines appeared across his forehead. Everyone waited expectantly, only relaxing when he finally swallowed, opening one eye.

“Well?” Prompto wondered.

“It’s…interesting.” He set the spoon down, shying away from it like it might come alive and bite him. “Will you tell me what it is now?” Noctis pleaded.

“Pureed eggplant, onions, tomatoes—”

“I hate it,” Noctis interrupted Ignis abruptly, and Gladio and Prompto both inhaled, sharper than the edge of Ignis’s daggers. Ignis waited, the picture of patience. “…but, because _you_ made it, I’ll eat it,” the prince vowed, expression severe as if he had just agreed to be placed in front of a firing squad.

Reaching to run one hand through Noctis’s hair affectionately, Ignis dipped his head to plant a single kiss on Noctis’s cheek. Gladio placed his head in one hand and smiled, while Prompto shifted from side-to side, hands on his hips as he watched them, utterly pleased.

“I’ll give your compliments to the chef, highness.”

* * *

“Gladio, do come in, you’ll catch cold,” Ignis chided as he slid the back door open just enough to ensure that he would be heard.

“Yeah, yeah, I will—it’s just— _so_ beautiful.” Ignis paused when he heard Gladio sniffle, then allowed his eyes to drop down to the empty beer cans gathered around his feet.

_Ah._

“Gladiolus, are you drinking alone?” He left off the ‘again’ at the end of the sentence. Tiptoeing through the snow that was still on the ground, Ignis made his way carefully onto the patio in his bare feet and placed both hands firmly on Gladio’s shoulders. “It’s time to come inside. It’s late.”

Boisterous laughter floated out of the bedroom window above and Ignis glanced up with a tender smile. He made a mental note to himself to go into Noctis’s room and shut it later so they wouldn’t run up the heating bill.

“Iggy, we’re gonna be okay, right? We didn’t do the wrong thing?” Ignis’s lips pursed and he came around in front of Gladio, alarmed to find wet streaks on his face that trailed down into his beard.

_Sweet Six, he was actually crying._

“Everything is fine, Gladio. Please, let’s go inside and put you to bed.” Ignis swallowed hard when Gladio looked up at him, a panicked look in his eyes. Even in the freezing temperatures, he still didn’t have a damn shirt on, just sleep pants and a blanket draped over his shoulders.

“Are we really good retainers if we’re this selfish? I mean, _I_ was the one who roped Noctis into this. He—he wanted to be all noble— _for once_ —”

“Gladiolus,” Ignis said firmly, kneeling down so they were eye level. Gladio sniffled again, rubbing the back of his hand across his face roughly. “We _all_ love Noctis. We all want what is best for him. The decision was his to make. Now, come to bed.”

“Yeah—yeah,” Gladio mumbled, struggling to get up. Ignis jerked forward to grab his arm when he nearly tripped over the blanket as it got tied up around his feet, leading the larger man carefully back into the house as he swayed from side-to-side.

“You’re so good, Iggy. Y’always know what to say, y’know? You’re the most selfless of alla us.” Gladio was leaning heavily on Ignis’s shoulder, and Ignis strained under his weight, but did his best not to show it as they made their way cautiously up the stairs. 

“I am just as selfish as the rest of us,” Ignis assured him, guiding Gladio’s hand to grab onto the banister. Ignis watched their feet to ensure neither of them would trip, leading them past Noctis’s cracked door to the bedroom they often shared.

Gladio paused abruptly in the hallway when he heard more laughter, and Ignis nearly fell from the sudden force of the stop.

“I just want him to keep laughing, y’know? Before it’s time for him to move on. Gods damnit, I’m selfish as hell. I don’t wanna let him go.” Gladio swallowed, and Ignis was afraid he might start crying again, so he patted him on the back and pushed him along.

When he finally managed to wrangle the prince’s Shield into bed, he filled a glass of water and set it on the end table before tucking him in. Gladio, nearly asleep, reached for Ignis’s hand as he stood to leave.

“Don’ go,” Gladio begged, and Ignis hesitated before sitting back down. “Don’ go…” Gladio repeated, and something in Ignis broke a little as he bent forward, touching their foreheads together.

“I’m not going anywhere. None of us are.”

It was a promise he intended to keep.

* * *

“Iggy, what’cha making?” Prompto asked as he wandered aimlessly into the kitchen. Ignis was on his fourth cup of coffee, but you couldn’t tell by looking at him, and had spent all morning and afternoon cooking up a storm.

“Currently? A quiche.” Prompto pulled up a stool to the island and sat down to watch Ignis work, hands gripping his knees as he let his feet swing idly.

“That’s the egg pie thing, right?”

“Indeed,” Ignis agreed in amusement.

“What’s all this for?” Prompto gestured to the entire kitchen before shrugging out of his Crownsguard jacket and draping it on the seat beside him. Ignis set aside the bowl of eggs he had just whisked and wiped his hands on his apron before looking around. Finished pastries were cooling on drying racks all along the counter, and the oven light was on, illuminating a few of his works in progress.

“I received a troubling email this morning,” Ignis finally admitted, then added, “Noctis is sure to come home in a foul mood.”

As if on cue, there was the sound of a key jamming into a lock, door handle jiggling furiously, followed by a ‘wham!’

Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prince of Lucis, entered like a hurricane, throwing his bag to the ground violently in the entryway before stomping his way towards the stairs.

“Noctis—” Ignis started to say, coming out of the kitchen in an attempt to cut him off, but Noctis warped ahead of his friend and advisor, darting upstairs two steps at a time before disappearing into his room. The door shuddered in its frame when he closed it forcefully, and both Ignis and Prompto stood at the foot of the stairs and listened. They eventually heard the familiar music of one of Noctis’s favorite video games, the volume cranked so high that the vibrations from the speakers shook the entire house.

Prompto watched as Ignis spun on his heel, returning to the ingredients he had abandoned in the kitchen. After a moment of deliberation, Prompto followed, climbing back onto the stool where he had been sitting.

“…so, you need someone to taste test any of this? I’ll have you know, I have excellent taste.” Prompto teased, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Taste away,” Ignis replied, and he smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes.

For Ignis’s sake, Prompto pretended not to notice.

* * *

[“I got a pocket—got a pocketful of sunshine—I got a love, and I know that it’s all mine—OHOH—WHOAAA!”](https://binged.it/2L4xgWQ)

Noctis smiled as he leaned his head against the bathroom door, listening to the slightly off-key singing coming from within. He drummed his fingers against his thigh in time with the beat and stifled a snort when Prompto inserted his own lyrics.

The prince wasn’t supposed to be home yet, and both Gladio and Ignis were still at work, so Prompto had no idea he had a captive audience. Noctis listened for a little longer before pushing the door open, hot steam billowing out.

“Take me awaaaaay—”

“Prom?”

There was a strangled sound, followed by a ‘thud.’ Noctis chuckled, assuming he had dropped his makeshift microphone, and slipped his hands into his pockets to wait.

“Aw, duuuude,” Prompto eventually whined as he discovered that the prince must have been listening. The blond pulled aside the shower curtain, wet hair plastered to the sides of his face. Smirking, Noctis gave his best impression of a golf clap, and Prompto rolled his eyes before yanking the curtain shut.

“Wait, come back,” the prince laughed, taking a few steps further into the bathroom to pull the plastic drapes aside. Prompto, in the midst of picking up the soap he had dropped, stopped mid-bend and gave Noctis doe eyes. The prince didn’t even bother hiding the fact that he was turned on and scanned him slowly from head to toe, licking his lips as he did so.

“You know, it’s just us in the house,” Noctis mentioned casually, and he was pleased to see Prompto blink at him slowly, a small smile curling around his lips in realization of what he was suggesting. “I bet we have at least thirty minutes before Specs gets home.”

“What if he catches us?” Prompto wondered as he shut the water off, but he sounded more excited by the idea than concerned. Noctis’s eyes lingered in-between his friend’s legs where Prompto’s cock was slowly becoming more erect, slick and warm from the shower. Damn, it was a beautiful sight.

“Maybe he’ll scold us.” Noctis dared to reach between Prompto’s legs, and the prince smiled when he inhaled sharply at the sudden contact. “There’s only one way to find out.” Prompto met Noctis’s eyes and it was over. He was out of the shower so fast that he nearly slipped on the tile on their way out, tackling Noctis into the bed they often shared at the first opportunity.

It had been a stressful week.

Noctis had found out about a possible arranged marriage with the princess of Tenebrae during a meeting with his father and it had put everyone on edge.

Gladio and Ignis had been holding their metaphorical and collective breath as they danced around the subject whenever Noctis was around, and Prompto didn’t know how to be.

It had made everyone miserable. There was less cuddling at night and more early mornings with rushed ‘hello’s and ‘goodbye’s. More forced smiles and fewer real laughs. It made Prompto want to scream anytime he was around one of the others, and he was desperate to speak without even knowing what he wanted to say.

But _this_? This was a good outlet for all his pent-up energy, he decided.

Prompto was mid-moan when the front door creaked open, and he reveled in the feeling of Noctis slapping a hand over his mouth to shush him, bucking his hips defiantly in order to shove the prince’s cock deeper inside his ass. Prompto could _feel_ Noctis’s grin pressed to his neck, and he couldn’t help but smile as they listened in knowing silence to Ignis’s deliberate steps as they tried to be quiet and failed.

With every creak of the bed, they giggled, and the giggles inevitably devolved into cackling.

“Shh—shh!” Noctis hissed when they heard Ignis coming up the stairs—but it was too late, and the door swung open—

“Noctis?” Ignis stopped before he got a foot in the door, surveying the scene with one delicately raised eyebrow. Noctis had his hips pressed up to Prompto’s backside, knees spread to either side of the blond’s slender torso, and he looked at Ignis with such an air of superiority as if daring him to comment.

“Yeah?” the prince answered.

“Make sure you wash up before dinner.” Ignis, acting as if he had not just caught the two in the middle of something brazen, gave a slight nod before leaving, the door clicking quietly in its latch as he shut it behind him. Prompto turned his head from where it was face down in the sheets to glance up at Noctis questioningly.

“Did Iggy just…?”

“Act like nothing happened? Yep.”

“I’m really turned on right now,” Prompto admitted, and Noctis couldn’t even be mad—because he was too.

* * *

“Can’t we just say I’m allergic to the sun and call it a day?” Noctis slid down in the loveseat, body becoming liquid as it hugged the natural curves of the furniture.

“You know what you remind me of right now? Cats in tubes. Or you know, inside things too small for them.” Gladio immediately pulled up Moogle on his phone to search for an example and got lost down a rabbit hole.

“Ooh—have you seen that photoset of cats on glass tables? Those are my favorite!” Prompto added, immediately throwing his arms around Gladio’s neck to look over his shoulder. Noctis grunted from where he was now trying to melt into the floor, socked feet sliding several paces in front of him while his upper half still clung precariously to the small couch. He was only half dressed, shirtless, but in slacks with his suspenders loosely hanging at his hips. For a prince, he hated formalwear. It reminded him of throne rooms and expensive knockers on doors that nobody used, most of them locked. 

“You can’t use that excuse,” Ignis explained patiently as he walked in to join them. “You already used it in elementary.” Gladio and Prompto stopped in their scrolling to look to Ignis in disbelief.

“Wait— _really_?” Prompto demanded. He was looking at Noctis in awe, but the prince was too busy trying to become one with the hardwood to notice.

“Yes, he did it to avoid any strenuous physical activity and was actually quite successful in his endeavors until one of his teachers mentioned it. He spent several glorious months indoors while the other children in the Citadel were forced to go outside for physical education.”

Noctis was laying flat now, and his eyes found Ignis’s. “You didn’t _have_ to tell my father. It could have been our little secret.” Gladio and Prompto bust out laughing, still trying to wrap their heads around the fact that Noctis actually got someone to believe he had a sun allergy once upon a time.

“Unfortunately, highness, I had to do what was best for you—and for Lucis—and that was ensuring you got your daily exercise.” Even Ignis was smiling now though, remembering how shocked he had been to uncover Noctis’s genius scheme. He had never admitted that he had been secretly impressed by the boy’s ingenuity. King Regis had been less pleased, however. _That_ had not been a good time.

“Look, look at this one!” Prompto held out his phone to Noctis and he tilted his head back to glance at the picture of a fluffy feline with its feet curled beneath it, photo taken from under a pane of glass. “If it fits, I sits!”

After indulging Prompto, Noctis grumbled, “You don’t make sure I exercise now.” Gladio looked sly as if he were about to comment, but Ignis was quicker.

“You no longer seem to have that problem. Especially not since you moved in with the three of us.”

After the span of a heartbeat, Prompto and Gladio chorused: “Oooooh!” Noctis shrugged, not denying the observation, but he did raise one finger into the air to say:

“True, but I don’t need to go outside, do I?”

“You’re still going to the Citadel. Now get dressed.”

They all waited until Ignis left the room before stirring in their seats, the mood shifting as if a bubble had been popped. Gladio and Prompto made their way to where Noctis was still lying on the floor in no rush to follow Ignis’s instructions. The prince glanced between the two of them—a petite blond man with freckles and brilliant blue eyes, his best friend from high school, and the darker giant with a honey gaze, chocolate brown hair pulled back to better show his undercut—his Shield. He thought how attractive they both looked in their Crownsguard fatigues and wanted to rattle off a flirty line or two, because _Sweet Six_ , they were _both_ beautiful and lovely, and godsdamnit all, why did he have to go to the Citadel to meet a princess when he could just stay home with them—but his mind seemed to forget all language beneath their stares. When Gladio and Prompto reached down at the same time to offer Noctis a hand, he grasped them above their wrists, but refused to move.

An unexpected tightness was pulling his throat closed.

“Just a little longer?” Noctis hoped, and the two very different looks of hesitation on his friends’ faces let him know he had won.

Prompto plopped onto the floor, wriggling his way into the crook of Noctis’s arm to let his head roll onto the prince’s chest. Gladio was a little more circumspect about how he got down, kneeling first, then sliding sideways before he pulled both of them in close. They stared up at the ceiling.

“I see now how you got away with saying you had a sun allergy,” the biggest of the three of them mused.

“It’s those eyes,” Prompto agreed.

They laid there for a while, nobody speaking. When Ignis found them there several minutes later, he paused, fighting between the two voices in his head—one significantly more reasonable. It was the voice he _should_ have listened to, and most often did because it was expected of him, but something about the sight of three men, all of whom he loved, pressed together stirred up a wave of emotions he usually kept under lock and key. 

Noctis looked to Ignis guiltily when he heard him approaching, but his advisor hadn’t come to scold him.

“Is there room for one more?” he asked. His voice had gone soft. Noctis’s inhale might have been a little more ragged than normal as he replied.

“Always.”

* * *

_Thwack! Thwack! Thwack! CRUNCH—!_

Gladio looks up from the bench in time to see the practice dummy snap in two. It’s the third one in the session that the prince had destroyed, and it’s not like Noctis to intentionally work up a sweat, but he’s giving off a ‘do not fuck with me’ vibe that Gladio knows all too well. Instead of walking over right away, the prince’s Shield takes a long sip of his water that eventually turns into chugging the entire bottle.

 _Oops_.

He tosses it one handed into the trashcan several feet away and thinks ‘swish!’ to himself before standing, lifting his arms overhead, and bending side-to-side. 

_Well, this should be interesting._

Noctis has tossed his sword aside and his pacing, hands on his head and breathing hard. As Gladio approaches, he sees that it’s not the only thing he’s thrown aside. The prince’s once gray shirt, now black with sweat, lays in a crumpled heap beside his discarded weapon, and in spite of just downing 24 ounces of liquid in a single gulp, Gladio’s thirsty again.

_Focus, Gladio._

“You good?” Gladio asks, and Noctis gives a breathless nod, but doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Great, then you can spar with me.” The prince’s head jerks up, and there is lightning in those storm cloud eyes, and dear Ramuh, Gladio is a storm chaser. Holding his hand out, Gladio summons his weapon from the armiger and swings the massive blade to rest on his shoulder. “C’mon,” he beckons to Noctis with one hand tauntingly, and the prince is already in motion, a streak of vibrant blue flashing through the air.

Although Gladio can’t warp or use magic like the Kingsglaive, he’s been training since before he could walk, and he’s the one who taught Noctis everything he knows. Sidestepping the first barrage of attacks, he dances around Noct, swifter and nimbler than someone his size should be.

_One, two—_

Gladio’s sword slices through the air and connects, a clang of metal on metal that sends Noctis head over heels. The prince bounces not so gently on the springy floor of the training hall, leaving a streak of sweat as he goes, but rolls and gets back up without wasting a breath. Noctis approaches straight on now, and Gladio meets him where he’s at, broadsword and short sword kissing with a series of ‘tings’ and ‘clangs.’

Noctis tires faster, and his jabs get sloppy, but Gladio is patient in a way the prince is not and bides his time. When the opening inevitably presents itself, he uses the flat side of his weapon and connects with the prince’s ribs.

He crumbles to the ground, looser than the clothing lying forgotten, wheezing from the pain and shock.

 _“_ What the _hell_ , Gladio?” Noctis seethes when he can breathe again, and Gladio banishes his sword back into the armiger’s void.

“You act like that in battle and you’ll get yourself killed—but you know that. You _wanted_ me to hurt you.” It’s not an accusation, just a simple statement, but there is rage in Noctis’s eyes, and some embarrassment, for being found out.

 _If I hurt you, you can hate me, and that makes it easier._ Gladio _knows_ , because it isn’t a new concept to him. Hatred is so much easier than sadness, but it’s a lesson Noctis will have to learn.

It’s a lesson all of them need to learn.

There is a tense moment where neither of them breathes, eyes locked, mouths set into ridged lines. Then, Gladio offers his hand like he has done countless times before.

“I’m not your enemy,” Gladio reminds him. All of the anger drains out of Noctis, leaving only exhaustion and the dull throbbing in his side that he feels is already becoming a bruise. He takes his hand and lets Gladio lift him. It’s effortless for the prince’s Shield.

It’s always been effortless for him.

“Let’s get some ice on those ribs,” Gladio suggests, and he walks away. Noctis doesn’t follow immediately. His eyes are trained on Gladio’s muscled back, at spread eagle wings that ripple enticingly with the natural swing of the man’s arms—arms that will carry him if only Noctis would let them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Prompto is singing in the shower is Natasha Bedingfield's "Pocketful of Sunshine," which is a nod to the movie Easy A. Hope you enjoy that obscure reference. 
> 
> Yes, there is a tense shift at the end of this chapter. Yes, it is deliberate. If you picked up on the abrupt change in tone, hooray, you noticed! :)
> 
> Fanart by @nagifry (Twitter/Tumblr)


	2. When It Rains, It Pours, and Snows, and Sleets

It was pouring, and that would have suited Noctis just fine—if he hadn’t locked himself out of the house.

With one hand he held his phone up to his face, not pressing it too close in an attempt to keep it as dry as possible. With the other he pounded loudly on the door, hoping _someone_ would hear his knocking over the deluge of water.

It was Prompto’s day off, but he wasn’t answering his phone. Noctis dialed Gladio next, hugging the doorframe to stay under the tiny awning that was currently providing him shelter from the storm.

When the door opened, he fell into the house, bringing a puddle of water along with him. Ignis caught Noctis instinctively, steadying him when they both nearly slipped.

“Whew—thanks, Iggy.”

“Don’t mention it.” They pulled apart and Ignis tugged his now wet shirt away from his stomach. “Forgotten your umbrella again?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Noctis began to strip in the entryway, and Ignis huffed, bending to collect his soaked clothing. “I’ll get it,” Noctis assured him, but Ignis was already whisking them away to the laundry room, and Noctis sighed, suddenly cold. Rather than head upstairs to change, he snagged a blanket from off the couch and wrapped it around himself, settling down in the nearest armchair.

Noctis had allowed his eyes to close and was on the verge of sleep when he felt heat radiating off of something next to him. He reached out instinctively and found Ignis’s hand, squeezing gently.

“Noct, at least go upstairs.” There was some exasperation in Ignis’s voice, and Noctis rearranged himself so that his head pressed into the other man’s leg. “You’re cold.” The prince heard Ignis’s frown before the man’s delicate fingers pressed to his cheek, making Noctis shiver.

“And you’re warm. You should heat me up.”

Noctis traced circles on the back of Ignis’s hand in the quiet that followed. Daring to open one eye, he found that Ignis was watching him, face betraying no emotion. His wall was up, and Noctis’s heart sank a little.

“I can run you a bath,” Ignis offered, and Noctis’s grip on his hand grew a little tighter—needier.

“Ignis.”

His retainer stiffened, his entire body language saying, _please, don’t_ , but Noctis couldn’t help himself. Moving slowly, as if he were afraid he might spook him into running, Noctis tugged Ignis down by his shirt, brushing their lips together. Ignis’s mouth trembled, ever-so-slightly, and there was a boom of thunder outside that made them both jump.

“Noctis—” he was straightening, pulling away, but Noctis was clinging more desperately.

“Please—Ignis.”

“We shouldn’t anymore, you’re betrothed now—” but he had stopped, because he couldn’t handle the look on Noctis’s face. He wanted nothing more than to sweep him up and carry him up to bed, pulling him beneath layers of blankets where he could warm him from the inside out.

But things had changed.

There was a chance for peace now, and it meant the prince would be married. Come spring, he would move back into the Citadel to prepare for his wedding, and everything the four of them had built over the past several years in secrecy would come to an end.

The wall was tumbling down, and Noctis saw his distress in the way Ignis’s body was tensed, ready to fight.

“Can we not think about that right now?”

I

_I am just as selfish as the rest of us._

Ignis couldn’t say no to those eyes, and Noctis knew it. And they both wanted to be a little selfish.

Okay, _a lot_ selfish.

When Ignis picked Noctis up in his arms, the prince was reminded of how _solid_ his advisor actually was. The man was all long limbs and proper language, with his hair perfectly gelled and glasses never out of place, and Noctis rarely thought of him as _strong_ when he was growing up _,_ because that was a word for describing Gladio, but in reality, Noctis knew Ignis was the strongest out of the four of them. His job required him to be one step ahead at all times, to consider every detail, and if Noctis messed up, the blame would fall to him. It wasn’t really fair, but that’s how it was, and Ignis shouldered the responsibility with grace.

Ignis sacrificed everything for Noctis’s sake, and until the prince realized how much Ignis loved him, he thought that he resented him.

Because why wouldn’t he? Noctis was fully aware of how difficult he could be.

The day he’d realized the truth, he had never looked back, and Ignis had taken it in perfect stride.

Noctis sat on the edge of the tub and watched it fill. Ignis had rolled up his shirt sleeves and was dipping his hand in the water to test the temperature, both of them listening to the steady drumming of the water as it layered on top of the rain outside. When the bath was ready, they shed their remaining clothes without ceremony and Ignis climbed in first, holding out open arms to Noctis.

He climbed in, curling between Ignis’s legs as the water rose up to their chests, warmth swishing around them.

“Ahh, perfect,” Noctis commented, and he sighed when Ignis ran a hand through his hair. “I love you.” The words materialized out of thin air, thick as the steam that now fogged up all the mirrors.

Ignis’s heart swelled to bursting, and he fought to contain his emotions.

“I know.” He knew he couldn’t say anything more, or risk losing all control. For Noctis, he couldn’t afford to do that, no matter how selfish he wanted to be.

They remained in the bath until the water ran cold.

* * *

[_“Turn it out! To the left—take it back now y’all—one hop this time, right foot let’s stomp—!”_](https://binged.it/2L5plbX)

Ignis was laughing, clapping along to the beat from where he perched on the counter as Noctis struggled to keep up with Prompto and Gladio, the three of them whirling dizzily through the dining room, table pushed to the wall to create space for their dance floor.

“Dude, just listen to the lyrics! It tells you what to do!” Prompto was wheezing from the combined dancing and laughing they had been doing for the past twenty minutes. Noctis bumped into him—once, then again as he overcorrected.

“It’s all in the hips,” Gladio said, cha-cha-ing like he was _born_ to dance. Noctis credited it to the Galahdian roots on his mother’s side for his Shield’s hidden talent, but that didn’t explain why Prompto was so damn good.

“This is ridiculous!” Noctis said as he slid to the right when he should have slid left, and Gladio caught the prince, dipping him until his head nearly touched the ground.

_Show off._

Noctis stepped back and watched Prompto and Gladio move in perfect unison, glancing over to where Ignis was still observing happily from the sidelines. He had one leg crossed over the other, a nearly empty wine glass balanced expertly in one hand. Noctis loved it when he smiled like that, all warm and adoring.

“C’mon Specs, it’s your turn,” Noctis said, and Gladio and Prompto immediately shimmied forward, reaching to pull their spectator off the counter and to the middle of the room.

“Oh no, I couldn’t,” Ignis was protesting, but they were determined. “Well then, only if you dance with me, Noct.”

Noctis was taken back to when he was still in high school, and he had practiced with Ignis in preparation for a royal ball.

_Who the hell still dances the Waltz, anyway?_

_Well highness, many people, and so will you if I have anything to say about it._

Noctis had, albeit poorly, successfully danced at the ball, and Ignis had never laughed at him.

“Deal.”

Prompto scrambled to where his phone sat in a bowl on the table (“to help amplify the sound,” he claimed) and changed to a smooth R&B song, a woman’s voice crooning.

Ignis gave a formal bow, offering his hand to Noctis as he straightened, and the prince took it, both of them beginning to circle in an easy cadence.

[ _“Some people want it all—_ ](https://binged.it/2L46a2c)

[ _I don’t want nothing at all,_ ](https://binged.it/2L46a2c)

[ _If it ain’t you baby,_ ](https://binged.it/2L46a2c)

[ _If I ain’t got you baby—”_](https://binged.it/2L46a2c)

Gladio had pulled up a chair and Prompto sat comfortably on one of his thighs, the two watching as Ignis and Noctis slow danced. They clapped enthusiastically when the music ended, Gladio whistling for good measure.

“Guess you don’t have two left feet after all, eh, princess?” Gladio teased.

“Well, I had a pretty good teacher.” Noctis held Ignis’s gaze until his advisor looked away. He could tell by the soft pink that colored Ignis’s cheeks that he was secretly pleased.

* * *

When the sun hit the frost, it made it look as if the ground was on fire. Ignis, hair still down and glasses off, slid open the back door and paused, surprised to find Gladio already sitting on the patio.

He was sipping from a mug of coffee, in his favorite sweatpants and hoodie, back to Ignis. Gladio swallowed a long sip as Ignis took the chair beside him, the fabric creaking a little with the man’s weight. Ignis curled his fingers around his own mug, the steam falling in lazy tendrils across his hands and warming them. Feeling a slight chill, he pulled his robe more tightly around his body, finally turning to Gladio.

“You’re up earlier than usual for a Saturday.”

“I went on a run.”

“It’s freezing,” Ignis pointed out. He knew it didn’t make a difference to Gladio, but he also knew there was something being left unsaid. 

“I needed to clear my head.”

They both took large gulps of coffee. Ignis shivered from the heat that coursed through him, drawing stark contrast to the numbness he felt in his toes.

Gladio slid over the newspaper he had in front of him and Ignis looked at it briefly, just long enough to read a headline that made his stomach drop.

_Royal Wedding Announced! Date Set for Mid-Spring_

“Ah. Has Noctis…?”

“Hasn’t said a damn thing,” Gladio answered without waiting for the full question, and he leaned his head back, coffee pushed aside. Seeing the faint shimmer of something on Gladio’s face, Ignis leaned in, reaching his hand up.

Gladio flinched as if he had forgotten Ignis was there, then relaxed as the other man wiped the trail of tears from his face. Ignis allowed his hand to linger until Gladio reached up to hold it.

“Everything will be all right. We have to be strong for Noctis—and for Prompto.”

Gladio gave a short laugh without any humor in it.

“Prompto’s either in denial, or he’s way better at this than we give him credit for.”

“Perhaps a bit of both,” Ignis said gently, and he pulled his hand away, but not before Gladio kissed it.

“It’s set two days before my fucking birthday.” Gladio didn’t bother to hide his bitterness. With Ignis, he knew better than to hide. The word _birthday_ seemed to spark some small acknowledgment in Gladio’s partner, and he paused, bringing a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

“Oh, it’s February already, isn’t it?”

Gladio was laughing, a true laugh this time.

“Iggy, don’t tell me—you forgot your _own_ birthday was coming up?”

Ignis chose not to answer, lifting his mug back up to his lips. Gladio’s laugh carried, vibrating in Ignis’s chest.

“That’s just like you, Specs.”

* * *

“Haaaaappy birthday to you! Haaaaappy birthday to you—”

Ignis blinked awake to the sight of a stack of pancakes floating towards him, the tray they rested on held up on either side by Prompto and Noctis. The two were still in their pajamas, and Ignis vaguely thought of how impressive it was that they were up before he was—until he realized it meant they probably hadn’t slept at all.

Gladio loomed in the doorway behind them, wearing only Ignis’s apron, which read ‘Kiss the Cook’ across the top in bright red letters.

Reaching for his glasses, Ignis pushed himself into a sitting position as the boys set the plate in front of him, smiling at the heart shaped strawberries and chocolate drizzle on top that surrounded the single lit candle.

“Happy birthday to youuuuu!” they all chorused, and it was the most beautiful sound Ignis had ever heard.

“This is absolutely lovely,” he commented, reaching for the coffee cup first as everyone piled onto the bed around him.

“Gladio made the pancakes,” Noctis admitted readily.

“Yes, you’re not allowed to be unsupervised in the kitchen after what happened last time,” Ignis gave a chuckle.

“Yeah, the kitchen smelled like burnt popcorn for weeks,” Gladio groaned as he wriggled up against the headboard. Prompto climbed into his lap, legs crossing at the ankles.

They all watched as Ignis took his time cutting the pancakes, and grinned when he put the first bite in his mouth, eyes widening in surprise.

“My. These are quite good.” Ignis took another bite, more earnestly now.

“I know a trick or two.”

“I’m quite aware of your tricks.” And Gladio squeezed Ignis’s leg through the sheets, winking. Ignis winked back and Noctis found his way in-between them all, sneaking a kiss from Ignis before he had time to notice what he was doing.

“Clear your schedule, Specs, because we have a whole itinerary planned,” Noctis boasted.

“Goodness. Am I allowed to know what’s on the schedule?”

Prompto giggled at how Ignis said _schedule_ , muttering his best imitation of it under his breath.

“Nope, birthday surprise—by royal decree.” Noctis was creeping under the covers to get a better hold on Ignis and was delighted to find him completely naked.

“Careful love, we won’t leave this bed if you get too cozy.” Ignis had meant it in that Noctis would doze off and they would be stuck indoors for several hours waiting for the prince to wake up, but based on the identical grins he received in response, everyone else had taken his words quite differently. Ignis rolled his eyes, and Noctis was struck by the length of his eyelashes.

It wasn’t fair how pretty it was, and he didn’t even realize.

“Well, lucky for you, that’s first on the list.” Ignis’s eyebrows furrowed at Noctis’s words. Gladio was already removing the tray from in front of the birthday boy to set it carefully by the bedside, pulling the comforter up so they could all climb underneath it, and they squished together in a haphazard fashion.

“Perhaps I’m not awake enough, but—” Ignis’s words were swallowed in a moan. He hadn’t noticed Noctis disappear from sight, but Ignis intimately felt every curve of the prince’s lips and bump of his tongue when he took him into his mouth.

“Awake now?” Gladio hummed, and the prince’s Shield began to kiss Ignis’s neck, strong hands running over his chest and abdomen as if he meant to memorize him by touch. Prompto crawled to the other side, flitting over Ignis’s exposed nipple with his tongue, and Ignis gave a slight gasp when the blond’s teeth brushed over it, sending electricity down his spine.

“Hap-py birf-day,” Noctis mumbled around Ignis’s shaft. If Ignis had his wits about him, he would have made a retort about not speaking with your mouth full. Whatever else the prince said was lost in the noise that followed, a high-pitched exhale.

When they finished the sheets were tangled, blankets kicked onto the floor. The four were all spent, but in that completely satisfied way—sticky and sweaty and utterly, blissfully happy. Gladio got up first to take a shower, and Ignis let his fingers curl in and out of Prompto and Noctis’s hair, the two having rested their heads on either one of Ignis’s thighs.

“Did you like your first present?” Prompto asked while rubbing his stubbly chin along Ignis’s inner leg.

“First? There are more?” Ignis sounded pleased.

“Of course there’s more. Like I said, we have a whole itinerary.”

“A _very_ full schedule!” Prompto quipped, attempting to accent the word ‘schedule’ in his best Iggy voice.

“I am absolutely shivering with antici—” Ignis paused briefly, “—pation.” 

Noctis was about to ask if he was intentionally making a movie reference or just being cheeky, but Gladio was rapping in the shower, and they all paused, smiling as they strained to make out the lyrics.

[“Got the magic stick—I’m the love doctor—I ain’t finished teaching you ‘bout how sprung I got ya—"](https://binged.it/2L4fKC2)

* * *

There was a loud ‘CRASH!,’ and Ignis and Prompto jerked awake at the same time, gasping in alarm at being jarred out of their dreams. Gladio was yelling from somewhere in the house, and there were groans followed by a quick succession of curses.

Ignis flipped on the bedside lamp and untangled himself from his partner, yanking on his discarded sweats before padding quickly out of the room and down the hall. Prompto was just one step behind him, hair wild from sleep.

“Fuck— _fuck!_ ” Noctis’s voice had taken on a whole different kind of sharpness, tinged with an animal panic, and it made Ignis’s heart jump uncomfortably into his ribcage.

“What happened? Are you all right?” Ignis flipped on the light switch so he could see down the stairs where Noctis was on hands and knees. Gladio was crouched beside him, face drained of color, and Ignis felt his heart stop. “What happened?” he repeated a little more pointedly, already halfway down the steps.

“It’s fine—it’s fine, I’m okay. My hand slipped on the railing—I just fell, that’s all.” Noctis sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than anything, and Gladio shook his head at Ignis, indicating that he most definitely _wasn’t_ fine. Ignis saw Noctis’s ankle, twisted at an awkward angle, and he took a deep breath.

“Prompto, go fetch the curatives from the pantry.”

“R-right!” Prompto squeezed past them, scrambling to obey.

“Gladio, please alert the Citadel that Noctis will need to be brought to the infirmary post haste.” Gladio gave one nod and went into the kitchen to get on the phone.

“No, no, _no_ —” Noctis was protesting even as he closed his eyes to prevent himself from falling onto his face in agony. He could vaguely hear Gladio in the background explaining the situation to someone.

“Darling, you’ve broken your ankle. We need to take you to get it looked at. Just take a deep breath, can you do that for me?” Tears were accumulating at the edge of the prince’s eyes as he nodded. His breaths were coming in short spurts, made staccato by the pain, but he forced them to deepen at Ignis’s urging. Prompto returned with a potion and Ignis opened it over Noctis’s lower leg. “This should help for the time being.”

“ _Fuck_ , I’m so stupid.” Noctis was wailing and Prompto was chewing on his lip, hands opening and closing nervously as he watched his best friend in pain, unsure what to do.

“It was merely an accident,” Ignis reassured him, soothing and calm.

“Guess you’re not walking down the aisle anytime soon.” It was meant to be a joke, but Ignis whirled on Prompto, making the younger one recoil. Ignis’s narrowed eyes were shooting bullets. 

“This is no time for levity!” Ignis snapped and he watched as Prompto’s lower jaw quivered.

“No, you’re right. Um, I’m sorry, I’m just gonna see—maybe Gladio needs help with something.”

“Prompto, I—” Prompto was gone before Ignis could apologize.

“Maybe they _will_ delay the wedding,” Noctis said after a few tense moments, and Ignis laughed only so he wouldn’t cry too.

It was the first time Noctis had brought it up since it was announced.

“There are more pressing concerns at the moment.”

Noctis reached for Ignis’s hands, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Iggy? I think I’m gonna throw up.”

Ignis wasted no time in scooping up his prince and carrying him towards the front door, using a few creative maneuvers to open it without the use of his hands. As soon as he set Noctis down in the grass the prince leaned to the side and wretched, bile dripping in a long trail from his mouth to the ground.

“Hey, just like my twentieth birthday party—remember?” Noctis chuckled.

“Vividly,” Ignis answered dryly, but his lips were turning up at the memory. “How are you faring now?”

“Well, my ankle hurts like a behemoth and my head feels like it’s gonna explode, but other than that—great.”

“The Citadel is sending a car,” Gladio called from inside the house.

“Dad isn’t gonna be happy,” Noctis let out another groan.

“Let me handle His Majesty. Just focus on recovering.” Ignis didn’t like the way Noctis had gone pale, and the older man knelt behind him, pressing his knee into the prince’s back to keep him steady.

“Iggy?” Noctis spoke in barely a whisper. “I don’t want to marry Luna.”

Ignis didn’t trust himself to speak. His heart was on a tilt-a-whirl, spinning in mad circles, unable to stop.

_I don’t want you to marry her either._

“Everything will be all right.” 

He wanted to believe it. He _had_ to believe it.

* * *

“Stop being stubborn!” Gladio boomed, yanking up Noctis’s pants so forcefully that he winced.

“I’m not going in _this_!” he pointed to the walking boot the healer had prescribed, and Gladio clenched his hands into fists.

“You’re the fucking _prince_. No one gives a rat’s ass if your ankle is broken, you just need to sit there and look pretty.”

“Go in my place then! _You’re_ pretty!” Noctis squirmed out of Gladio’s grip, pants still unbuttoned, and his Shield let out a growl-roar of frustration.

“ _I’m_ not the prince!”

“G-guys?” Prompto opened the door a crack as if he were afraid a bomb was about to go off.

“ _What_?” Noctis and Gladio hissed, whirling on him.

“Iggy says stop fighting and hurry up or we’re gonna be late.”

“I’m _not_ going, and that’s final!” Noctis crossed his arms for good measure, sitting on the edge of his bed and planting his feet firmly. 

Gladio pointed a finger at Noctis, looking to Prompto as if to say _none of this is my fault!_

“Nooooct, buddy, come on man! _Please_ , it’s gonna make all of us look bad if you don’t show.” Prompto had gone for the friendly route, but like a bull that had seen red, Gladio wasn’t ready to quit.

“Stop being a stupid spoiled brat and grow a pair, all right? Ignis took the blame for your injury even though it wasn’t _any_ of our faults and now you won’t even show up to your own party?” Noctis’s mouth had turned into a jagged sneer.

“I didn’t agree to this party, all right? If I don’t want to go, I don’t have to. I can take the blame! What’s my father going to do, throw me in prison?” The door swung wide to reveal Ignis, dressed in his best suit, golden embroidery visible on the vest beneath his jacket. Prompto ducked behind Specs guiltily, not wanting to be in the line of fire if a fight broke out.

“Your highness, I must insist.” His tone let no room for arguing, the temperature in the room dropping from blazing to below freezing in an instant.

“I’m not—” Noctis’s voice transformed, now unsure and vulnerable. “I’m not taking _my_ boyfriends to a glorified bachelor party I don’t want for a wedding I didn’t agree to.”

It was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

“That’s—” Gladio was better at being angry than empathetic, and the sudden change in direction of the conversation threw him for a loop. He had _not_ planned on feeling things today, and he felt like he had been tricked. 

“Dude, none of us want to go,” Prompto admitted, saying what they were all thinking. “But it’s going to be easier if we do this together. Later tonight we can eat cold pizza in our underwear and laugh at all the funny hats the ladies wore, and whose pants were too tight, and which people we found attractive. It can be fun if you try.” Prompto was rambling a little, because everyone was looking at him now, and he wasn’t the one with the bright ideas most of the time, but godsdamnit if he wouldn’t see everything through until the very end.

Especially this.

“We’re here for you, Noct. Don’t be scared, because if you’re scared, we will be too, okay?” Prompto’s voice cracked, and he flushed in embarrassment, the pink deepening to crimson as he found himself being embraced from all sides.

“I love you, you idiot,” Noctis said, and kissed Prompto full on the mouth.

“ _You’re_ the idiot,” Gladio spat, but he squeezed them tighter, shoulders pressing to backs and digging into chests, and everyone was laughing, the mood lifting.

“I must insist— _all_ of you are idiots.”

Ignis had the final word, and nobody argued.

He was usually right.

* * *

“It’s _freezing_ in the house!” Prompto whined as Gladio pressed down on the blond’s head, keeping him from reaching the thermostat.

“Did you put on a sweatshirt?”

“Yeah, but—"

“Socks?”

“ _Gladio_!”

“All I’m saying is 68 degrees is an optimal temperature for sleep, and if you disagree then you can fight me for it.” Gladio was looking smug as Prompto pouted.

“You’re _not_ normal! Not everyone is a natural born furnace.”

“Aw, are you saying I’m hot, Prom?”

“It’s much easier to add clothing than it is to take it off,” Ignis said practically from where he sat on the couch. He was lounging in a pair of black silk pajamas, thick wool socks on his feet and a blanket laid across his lap. “Besides, I know how Gladio loves when you press your cold hands and feet against him in the middle of the night.”

 _That_ had Prompto grinning, and Gladio was grabbing the smaller man amidst shrieks and giggles. He carried Prompto over one shoulder with ease, dumping him next to Ignis before joining them on the couch.

“Besides, it’s almost spring. It’s been getting warmer every day.” Gladio pointed out—and he lifted Prompto’s shirt to blow a raspberry on his pale stomach, watching him squirm.

Prompto’s legs kicked wildly, and he nearly hit Gladio in the face.

_Worth it._

“I can’t wait until its warm again! This has been the longest winter _ever_!” Prompto complained as he snuggled under Ignis’s blanket. Gladio and Ignis both looked elsewhere, thinking they wished it would last just a little bit longer. “Ooh, Iggy, you’re so warm.”

Ignis stiffened when Prompto tucked his icy fingers under the waistband of his pajama pants.

“My dear little ray of sunshine, you _are_ quite cold.” Ignis gave Gladio a look.

“I’m not adjusting the thermostat,” Gladio said stubbornly.

“Iggy, will you fight for my honor?” Ignis gently removed one of Prompto’s hands so he could press his lips to the backs of his knuckles.

“Gladly.”

Gladio, making an exaggerated barfing noise, rose up off the couch. “ _Fine_ , I’ll turn it up two degrees. Are you _happy_?”

“The happiest!” Prompto cheered, and Ignis rubbed his nose across a patch of freckles on Prompto’s cheek, folding his long legs and arms around him affectionately.

“I know better than to fight Ignis,” Gladio said, eyeing the two warily.

Ignis hummed, pulling the fleece blanket more securely around Prompto’s back as they snuggled down into the couch.

* * *

It’s a brilliantly sunny day, and Noctis is taking personal offense to it.

Why is it so beautiful? It couldn’t be wet, and gray, and bitterly cold? No, it had to be perfect weather, almost balmy for early spring.

Life really wasn’t fair sometimes.

The prince watches as servants carry his boxes out of the townhome and into the moving van while his ‘not’-boyfriends stand by silently, pretending not to be carefully studying his face for the smallest sign he might go off the rails at any moment. 

He wants to throw something, but he sits on the lawn instead and picks at the brown grass, dead from the cruel winter, tearing up a small patch before Ignis walks over.

“Your highness?” he ventures cautiously, and it’s a warning and a reassurance all at once, but Noctis won’t look up. Typically, Ignis would grab him by the chin—tilt his head up to kiss him and murmur a sweet nothing, but not today.

Today is the day Noctis returns to the Citadel, soon to be a married man. 

Gladio has his hands jammed into his pockets so hard that Prompto is afraid he will tear holes in his pants. Prompto just sways left to right, nervous energy making it impossible to sit still, and watches with a hollow stare as Ignis approaches Noct.

They all want time to slow down.

They knew this day would come, and yet…

“Once you are settled, we will come and make sure everything is up to your standards.”

“It’s just my old room. I’m sure it’s fine.” Noctis is still looking at the grass, a small stack now piled in front of him.

Gladio has to turn away and Prompto is torn between trying to comfort him or Ignis.

“Is that everything?” one of the movers asks, and Ignis busies himself with making sure that yes, they got everything, but oh—isn’t this Noctis’s sweatshirt? But no, that’s okay, Prompto wants to keep it. He can always get another one.

It’s fine.

Everything is fine.

“You guys aren’t coming with me?” Noctis asks when it’s time for him to go, and three sets of eyes blink in comedic tandem, even though there is nothing funny about the situation.

“We have some Crownsguard business to attend to.” Ignis is apologetic, but it still hurts.

“Oh.”

“I can come tonight after physical training,” Prompto offers in a rush. “We can break in your room with some video games, maybe order some takeout.”

“Prompto, it’s the Citadel. We would just get room service,” Noctis points out. He sounds so, so tired, but his friend is relentless in his attempt to cheer him up.

“That’s not as fun! Besides, we can place bets on how long it takes the delivery guy to get to your room. Remember that one who got lost for an hour and ended up pissing off security because he got all the way to your father’s room?”

“Uh-huh. Well, maybe. Guess I will see if dear ol’ dad needs me for anything.” Prompto’s face falls.

Gladio says nothing, glaring at the van parked on the curb, jaw clenched.

The window of opportunity for goodbyes is closing, but there are too many people around, and the need to be discreet overrides their personal wants and needs.

“Later then,” Noctis mutters lamely, and they all watch as the prince climbs into the back of a sleek black car, the moving van trailing it as it heads in the direction of the Citadel.

It isn’t until after the car disappears around the corner that Prompto falls to his knees, shuddering sobs racking his entire body, releasing weeks of pent up emotions that he had hidden behind a brave face. Ignis feels his own heart ache as Gladio walks back into the house and slams the door behind him.

Ignis lets Prompto cry until nothing else comes out before gently pulling him to his feet and into a hug.

“I know,” Ignis says. “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs Referenced in This Chapter:  
> The Cha-Cha Slide - dancing in the kitchen  
> If I Ain't Got You, Alicia Keys - Noctis and Ignis slow dancing  
> Candy Shop, by 50 Cent - Gladio singing in the shower
> 
> Iggy is quoting the Rocky Horror Picture Show when he says he is “shivering in anticipation.”
> 
> Raise your hand if you're that person who sleeps with the thermostat on 68 and the fan on!  
> My wife glared at me at that part. (Oh hai. It ME)
> 
> Fanart by @aceflorins (Twitter/Tumblr)


	3. Sunshine on a Cloudy Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally deleted this chapter and had to rewrite parts of it from a draft. Hopefully it still delivers! If anything, I learned to triple back up my work. I’m most sad about losing everyone’s kind comments :(

It was an unusually hot day for March, and Prompto was lying on his stomach on his bedroom floor in a pair of neon booty shorts, windows open. He had his legs kicked up and locked at the ankles, tongue sticking out in concentration as he cut a photo into a unique shape.

There was a soft knock on the door, but he couldn’t hear it over the sound of the music blaring through his headphones.

Ignis let himself in and waited for Prompto to look up. When the blond finally did, he pulled out one ear bud and offered a tentative smile.

“Are you busy? Dinner is ready.” Ignis wandered over to where Prompto had set out scraps of paper and glue in a semi-circle in front of him.

“Well, sort of. I’m making a wedding present for Noct.”

Ignis inhaled forcefully as he looked down at the array of pictures of the four of them, expertly arranged into a collage, all taken over different points throughout their high school years and beyond. In the center was a photo of their group from earlier in the fall, a selfie Prompto had taken when they had gone out to eat one night. Their heads were all pressed together, a smile on everyone’s faces. It was before the arranged marriage had been proposed, and the future had seemed full of endless possibilities.

“Do you think he’ll like it?” Prompto asked nervously.

“Oh, Prompto. He will _love_ it,” Ignis said with confidence, and he was rewarded with a beaming smile. “Take your time, he urged, and he patted the blond’s ass with tender affection before sweeping back out of the room, shutting the door with a _click_.

Prompto rarely sat still for long, but when given something to do with his hands he could sit transfixed for hours. He worked on his project with laserlike focus, only acknowledging that time had passed when the daylight streaming through his window dipped behind the trees and his playlist came to an end.

Hands aching, but satisfied with his work, he placed the finished series of collages on the bedside table and stretched, wandering over to flip on the stereo.

Switching his phone’s Bluetooth on, he slid off his headphones and cranked up the first song that came on.

He’d been sitting too long, so he spun around the room, playing air guitar as he sang along. The bed served as his stage, and he bounced high, the mattress creaking.

“— _you’re in the middle of the ride, everything, everything will be just fine—everything, everything will be alright, alright_ —"

There was a furious knock at the door, but it was drowned by drums and bass. It took less than thirty seconds for Gladio to barrel into the room, and he caught Prompto in mid jump, growling.

“Hey—turn that shit off!” He stomped across the carpet to yank out the power cord, the lyrics dying mid-chorus.

Prompto frowned, stuttering to a stop and placing his hands on his hips in annoyance.

“Who spit in your noodles?” the smaller man demanded.

“Some of us have actual work to do, not arts and crafts,” Gladio hissed, puffing up with rage. Usually, Prompto would be the first to apologize in situations like this. He’d rather sweep things under the rug and shrug off a problem rather than confront people directly, _especially_ when it came to Gladio, but something in the Shield’s tone made anger spark red-hot in his chest and he leaned into it, letting it catch fire.

“It’s _not_ arts and crafts, and it’s _not_ shit. Stop _fucking_ yelling at me and put in some headphones if you don’t like it,” Prompto yelled.

“Gladio? Prompto?” Ignis called from the kitchen, voice threatening, but Gladio and Prompto’s eyes were locked, tension sizzling between them. There was a dangerous energy swirling in the room, a powder keg about to explode. If Prompto was the match, Gladio was the fuse.

Gladio’s jaw clenched, vein pulsing at his temple. “You’re not fooling anyone, Prompto. You hide up here in your room so you don’t have to put on a brave face, but the rest of us are out in the real world, _dealing_ with shit.”

Prompto gaped at him incredulously. The match was dropping from his hand, ready to ignite.

“Oh, _that’s_ rich! Suddenly _I’m_ the emotionally constipated one? You think trying to deal with your mood swings is easy? Well it’s _not_ —it’s tiring—and I don’t need _you_ putting me through hell—" he shot back, words spilling out before he could stop him. 

“I’M ALREADY IN HELL!” Gladio roared, towering over Prompto menacingly. “And I swear to Shiva if you don’t keep your godsdamned music down I’ll—”

Footsteps were ascending the stairs in alarm— _thudthudthud—_

“Or _what_ big guy, you’ll hit me? _Fucking hit me_ then, you coward! I wish you would!” Prompto screamed, throwing his arms wide.

Ignis ascended the landing as Gladio let loose a guttural cry, diving for Prompto. There was a yelp as the smaller man was knocked from his feet and thrown backward, Gladio’s knees scraping on the carpet with the friction. The Shield’s arms windmilled to reach for his victim’s wrists, but Prompto threw up one limb, his elbow catching his assailant in the jaw at the same time he caught a fist in the face. There were _smacks_ and _whaps_ as they struggled, then a _crash_ as they knocked into the bedside table, something falling onto the ground.

“GLADIO! PROMPTO!”

Gladio was being yanked backwards, and he tumbled into the closet, wood shattering from the force of his weight. There was a shudder, then a groan, uneven panting filling the silence.

“What the absolute _fuck_ is the matter with you both?” Ignis hissed, his profanity emphasizing the absurdity of the situation. “I’m glad Noct isn’t here to witness this.”

Prompto sat up slow, hand running over the pocket of swelling that was already forming beneath his eye. He reached for one of the picture frames that had been jarred off the end table in the chaos, lip quivering as he surveyed the picture of the four of them smiling, now obscured behind a spiderweb crack in the glass.

No one spoke as Ignis’s gaze cut across the room like a scythe through grain.

“Clean this up— _all_ of it.” And they knew he meant the emotional turmoil and not just the physical debris. The advisor turned on his heel and left the room in a fury, door slamming in his wake.

For a long time, neither Prompto nor Gladio would look at each other.

Finally, Gladio lifted his head, then snorted. “You look like a kicked puppy.”

“A _punched_ puppy,” Prompto corrected. “No thanks to you.”

A pause. Gladio rolled onto hands and knees and crawled over to where Prompto sat, leaning back against the bedframe. He let his head fall back with a sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

Prompto peeked over, hesitant.

“Me too,” he sighed, relief making his shoulder slump. The air was clearing, slowly but surely, smoke settling.

“Your music is still shit, though,” he chuckled. Prompto punched him in the shoulder—but not hard enough to hurt. “I don’t know what came over me,” Gladio confessed, spreading his hands helplessly.

Prompto, the kindest and most empathetic of them all, nodded. Sometimes, you have to play loud music and dance in your room—and sometimes, you just have to hit something.

* * *

“I miss Iggy.”

“Quit your bitching, this ramen is perfect,” Gladio boasted.

“It’s Cup Noodles!” Prompto looked at his bowl sullenly, twisting his fork in a tight circle to lift a ball of the stringy pasta up into the air before letting it slide off with a ‘plop.’

“Cup of Noodles _with_ egg. That egg makes all the difference,” Gladio said as he slurped his broth, draining the bowl dry. Prompto laid his head down on the table with a ‘thud.’

“I’m gonna die. I’m wasting away to nothing. You can practically see through me!”

“Stop being dramatic. I’m not making you eat. Besides, you could always cook for yourself,” Gladio pointed out, and Prompto released a low-pitched whine.

When the blond felt a rough hand wrap around his neck, his hair stood on end and his ass cheeks clenched. Gladio squeezed lightly, just enough to send a thrill through him.

“You want me to give you something to whine about, little boy?”

Prompto was surprised at how quickly his body responded to Gladio’s taunt, but honestly, he shouldn’t have been. Tensions had been rising between him and Gladio since Ignis had left for Accordo earlier in the week to accompany His Majesty on important business. Noctis had been otherwise occupied in his father’s absence, which left Gladio and Prompto to their own devices.

Those devices being a lot a pent-up anger and sexual tension. They had been awkwardly avoiding each other since their fight several weeks prior, but when Ignis went away on business, they were thrust together out of necessity.

Prompto licked his lips as he sat up in his chair, only to have his head yanked back forcefully.

“Ah—!”

“You try and act all innocent, but we both know you’re just a thirsty fuck boy. You’ve been teasing me all week, walking around in next to nothing. Now _c’mere_.”

Prompto pulled at Gladio’s pants as he was pulled off balance, unbuttoning the larger’s jeans as he was pushed roughly to his knees. He liked the hard feel of the floor on his bare skin. It hurt just enough to feel good. It took mere seconds for the blond to release Gladio’s straining erection from where it was contained in his underwear, and he licked it from base to tip as if his life depended on it, tongue lingering on the head.

“Gods, Prompto— _fuck—_ ”

Prompto managed to fit all of Gladio in his mouth and _Astrals above_ , Gladio nearly came right then. None of them had gotten any action since Noctis had left. Not for lack of wanting, but because no one had been in the mood to start anything. Something happened when Ignis left though—a strange desperation had fallen over the house, as if the fear of being alone forced them into action.

“Wait, wait—” Gladio pleaded, tugging Prompto back by his hair when he began to suck harder. Prompto looked up, wetting his lips mischievously. “Turn around,” he ordered, gruff and deep.

The smaller of the two was on his feet, and Gladio pressed him into the edge of the table, flipping him over so he could yank his shorts to his ankles.

“Ah— _shit_ —” Prompto moaned as Gladio sucked on his own fingers and slid them between Prompto’s legs, inserting them slowly.

“That’s it, baby,” Gladio was chuckling and Prompto was seeing stars from the blood rush to his dick.

“Don’t be a tease.” Prompto was whimpering, weak, and Gladio spread his partner’s legs with his knees before grabbing Prompto by both hips. He hoped his fingers left bruises—the purple would look good with his orange freckles, he thought wickedly.

It took a few slow pushes for Gladio to get a good angle, but once he was inside, Prompto moaned _pretty_ , and hell, he wanted to go fast and furious, but Gladio reigned himself in. It’d been too long to rush.

“That good, Prom?” He ran a hand down the bumps of the pale boy’s spine and Gladio enjoyed the feeling of shivering beneath him.

“Hell yeah.” Prompto gripped the table with both hands, hips pressing back. “ _More_ —”

Gladio obliged, and the table rocked with the force of his passion.

When Gladio came, his eyes flitted up to the ceiling and he leaned forward to catch his breath, one hand pressed next to Prompto’s head to hold himself up, the other reaching around to grab the bottom’s still hard cock.

“Come on, you too, baby,” Gladio murmured, and even though he felt like jelly and could really go for a nap right about now, he finished Prompto off like a gentleman should, then pulled the smaller man on top of him as they came to rest on the floor.

“Oh gods, Iggy would be so mad if he knew we fucked on the kitchen table,” Prompto laughed, then yawned, head resting on Gladio’s chest.

“Then let’s not tell ‘im,” Gladio suggested.

“Not tell me what?”

“Ignis!” they chorused in surprise and delight.

Gladio and Prompto both scrambled to their feet, pulling their clothes back on sheepishly to go to where Ignis stood in the doorway, one eyebrow arched in question.

“You’re home early,” Gladio commented.

“I thought you two might be in need of a proper meal. Apparently, all my worrying went to waste.”

“Oh gods, _yes!_ ” Prompto giggled as Gladio swatted at him.

“Don’t _ever_ say I didn’t take care of you,” Gladio grumbled. “Ungrateful brat.” There was no anger in his tone, and Prompto tried to conceal his smile.

Prompto went to hide in Ignis’s arms where he was held and caressed, sticking his tongue out in Gladio’s direction.

“I love you Gladio, but nothing beats Ignis’s cooking— _nothing,_ not even sex.”

* * *

“How about this one?” Ignis held up the pale gold tie to Noctis’s neck, eyes lingering where the prince’s top button had come free, showing the notch between his collar bones.

Noctis shrugged, and Ignis’s shoulders pulled back defiantly. The royal tailor was tapping his foot, impatiently looking at Ignis as if he expected him to fix all of his problems, but Ignis knew Noctis’s moods like every scratch in the lenses of his glasses, and they were fighting a losing battle.

“A moment, please,” Ignis begged of the master craftsman, and the old man shuffled out of the room, muttering something about how Regis hadn’t been _nearly_ as picky when he had gotten married.

“Tell me what’s the matter,” Ignis said as soon as the man had left the room, and Noctis made a show of studying the tips of his naga-skin boots, putting more weight on his good ankle. “Noctis?”

“I can’t do this, Ignis.”

“It’s only a tie, Noct—”

“No, _this._ ” Noctis waved his hands at the whole room, and although it wouldn’t have been clear to anyone else, Ignis knew what he meant.

The prince’s advisor felt his heart skip a beat as he studied Noctis in the mirror, their eyes finally meeting as the prince’s chin jutted forward, stubborn, yet beautiful.

“What are you saying?” Ignis asked, pragmatic and cautious.

“I can’t _do_ this, Iggy!” Noctis’s voice rose, skipping off the marble floors. “I won’t! I’m going to tell my father everything. I’m fucking _gay_ for Bahamut’s sake, how I am supposed to make an heir, let alone have sex with my wife—”

“Shh,” Ignis implored, coming forward to squeeze Noctis’s shoulders in warning. “Shh,” he said a little more quietly, bringing his head to rest against Noctis’s cheek.

“I can’t—I can’t. Please, don’t make me do this!” Noctis’s heart was breaking, and Ignis’s was breaking along with it, and all this was so much more than choosing a stupid tie.

Any minute, the tailor would return and insist that Noctis try on his tuxedo. The wedding was only two weeks away and they hadn’t taken any measurements since the winter because Noctis kept putting it off, but the fitting had been all but forgotten, and Noctis was turning, sucking Ignis into him by his belt loops.

The prince stood on his toes to kiss him on the mouth, holding on more tightly when his advisor tried to push him away.

“Run away with me—let’s go somewhere.” Noctis’s eyes were wild when Ignis looked down into them, endless pools of icy gray, and he felt a surge of panic in the pit of his gut.

“Noctis, we _can’t_. You’re the prince—”

“And what if I don’t want to be the prince anymore?” Noctis challenged.

Ignis bit down on his lip so hard that he tasted blood.

“We can’t help who we are born to be.” He desperately wanted to escape Noctis’s grasp, knowing full well that someone could walk in at any moment, but he held still knowing that the more he struggled, the more Noctis would fight him. “Please. You have to let me go.”

_You have to let all of us go._

The silence was uncomfortable. Ignis felt himself coming unglued and a vein in his jaw pulsed.

Footsteps were growing louder, and Noctis finally uncurled his fingers from Ignis’s shirt, just in time for the tailor to step back into the dressing room.

“Your highness, are you ready?” the man asked, but it wasn’t really a question.

“Yeah. As ready as I’m gonna be.”

Noctis’s voice was hard and jaded, and Ignis knew he was losing him.

“The gold one,” Noctis said apathetically, and the tailor pulled it aside.

“Good choice, your highness.”

Ignis eyes pointed straight ahead dutifully, pretending like nothing had happened, even as he felt his heart shattering into a million pieces.

* * *

“ _Dude,_ the Wi-Fi here is top notch. I swear I’m moving in with you.”

Prompto was upside-down and hanging off of Noctis’s bed in the Citadel, phone held up to his face as he scrolled through posts on Kweh, hitting the ‘kupos’ button for ones he liked. 

“I think that might raise some questions.” Noctis walked over in a pair of fuzzy slippers and cactuar boxers, hair messy from having showered recently.

“Anything interesting?” the prince asked as he ran a hand across Prompto’s ass in appreciation. He might have been shorter on average, but Prompto had always had a good butt.

“Hm? Nah, same boring stuff as usual. _Insomnia NOW_ is at it again with their tabloids…” Prompto trailed off, fingers frozen in mid swipe, and he rolled over, pushing himself up on his elbows. “Oh shit.”

“What is it?” Noctis sat down beside his friend and leaned in so their heads knocked together, eyes growing wide as he scanned the post Prompto had pulled up.

“I gotta call Ignis—” Prompto fumbled his phone and it clattered on the floor. “Fuck—!” Prompto dove, half crawling to retrieve it.

“We can easily say it was photoshopped,” Noctis suggested, but even his heart was racing. It was a picture of him and Gladio, a little blurry, but Noctis was definitely straddling him on the back porch of their town home, hands down the darker man’s sweatpants, lips locked.

He remembered that morning fondly.

They both went still as a resounding knock rang out and King Regis stepped into the room, not waiting for anyone to answer. The king didn’t spare Prompto a second glance, which is how Prompto knew something serious had happened.

“Noctis? A word.”

Prompto practically melted into the bed, mortification turning him as red as a Lucian tomato.

“Whatever it is, you can say it in front of Prompto,” Noctis crossed an ankle over his opposite knee and Prompto really, really wished he wouldn’t drag him in the middle of this.

“I’ve received word of a certain photograph circling the internet. Care to explain?”

Prompto held his breath and tried to look casual, but he misjudged and instead of placing his hand on his knee, missed and went face first into the floor.

“Ow—”

“Dad, I’m gay.”

Prompto stayed on the floor, vision blurring as he grew suddenly hot. He had to have misheard him, right? There was just no way that the week before his wedding Noctis would—

“I know, son.”

 _O-kay_ , so now both Prompto’s and Noctis’s jaws were on the floor, and Prompto got up so fast that the room spun. King Regis looked completely unfazed.

“You and Prompto have had more sleepovers than any grown man should have in a single lifetime. I see the way you look at each other. The same goes for Gladio. Even when you two were younger, you spent extra time training and could barely keep your hands off each other,” the king explained, and Prompto felt like he was dying. It would be much easier if he wasn’t sitting there in his underwear in front of Insomnia’s reigning monarch.

“So— _why_? If you knew I liked guys, why marry me off to Luna?” Prompto recognized the look on Noctis’s face and was already trying to come up with a way to run interference, but the king cut to the chase, hand still resting on the doorknob.

“As royalty, we often have to make decisions for the good of the people that don’t always align with what we want. Being a good ruler requires sacrifice, and I know you will do the right thing. I will have Ignis handle this picture situation. Good night, Noctis.”

They sat there for a long time after Regis left. Noctis looked down at his hands blankly, and Prompto sat there, watching him, waiting for him to speak, to cry, to throw something—but he didn’t. He just stared, unmoving.

“Hey, why don’t we get some sleep?” Prompto suggested when he couldn’t take the silence anymore.

 _Everything will be better in the morning_.

Noctis gave a half-hearted nod and laid down, and Prompto jumped up to turn off the light.

The prince’s friend didn’t know what to say, so he just grabbed for Noctis’s hand, lacing their fingers in the dark.

There was a gap between them now that Prompto didn’t know how to breach, and they were both wide awake, even as they pretended to sleep.

* * *

Ignis pulled at his hair from where he sat hunched over his email, a half-eaten bowl of vanilla ice cream sitting on the counter beside him. Taking off his glasses, he let them clatter onto the countertop, running one hand over his face as his right eye twitched.

Noctis had created a logistical nightmare for him, and he couldn’t help but feel like it was just a little bit of payback for turning the prince away, but he pushed the thought from his head to focus on the task at hand.

“You look like you could use a stiff drink,” Gladio said as he walked into the kitchen with a bottle of whiskey in his hands.

“Ah, Gladio. Sorry, I thought you were asleep. I’m just finishing up.”

It was half-true. He hadn’t had any work to do for the past hour, but he hadn’t been tired at the time, so he had stalled, re-reading the same emails over and over. The wedding was two days away, and his sleep had suffered as he obsessed over every last detail while simultaneously trying to keep the media at bay. It was exhausting.

Gladio came to look over Ignis’s shoulder, pouring a glass for each of them as he read.

“Damn, they’re like sharks in the water.” Ignis could hear the disgust in Gladio’s voice as he slid the whiskey into Ignis’s hand, and the light-haired man lowered his lips to the glass to sip the amber liquid. Gladio snorted.

“You look like a goblin right now. I know you haven’t been sleeping.”

“I’m fine,” Ignis deflected.

“Uh-huh. And Prompto hasn’t been eating, and he barely comes out of his room.”

Ignis had noticed, but he hadn’t mentioned anything— _yet_.

He knew what he was going through. They were all going through it.

 _Misery loves company_.

“Have you even spoken to Noct since last weekend?” Gladio downed his whiskey like a shot, the glass slapping down furiously.

“Of course I have.” Ignis’s indignant reply was made snottier from his accent, and Gladio could feel his irritation turning from a simmer into a steady boil.

“I mean _outside_ of work. You know, like lovers do?”

“What do you want from me, Gladiolus?” It was a sigh, more resigned than angry, and it made Gladio raving mad.

 _Get pissed off_ , he wanted to shout. _We’re going to lose him forever if you don’t do something!_

“I want you to take the stick out of your ass.” The tension snapped like a whip, cracking between them. Ignis lifted the whiskey glass to take another sip and Gladio watched him gulp it down.

“I am merely doing what is expected of us. Now, unless you have something more useful to offer, I must bid you goodnight.”

Gladio swept his glass aside without warning, letting it fall to shatter on the floor, a broken shard cutting a red line across the top of Ignis’s foot. Ignis’s expression never changed, even as the blood dripped down to pool on the tile.

“I can’t believe you,” Gladio growled. Ignis could feel something in his chest fold in on itself, like the universe was imploding. “You know that if you gave yourself permission to be selfish, we all would follow you. _Noct_ would follow you. You’ve always been the one to hold us together, Ignis.”

_Why is this up to me?_

It didn’t seem fair that such a momentous decision was his, and his alone. In some ways, he resented all of them for placing the burden on his shoulders, even Noctis.

It had never been in him to be selfish—it wasn’t his calling—and he knew that was why they couldn’t move forward.

As much as he hated to admit it, Gladio was right.

Gladio stood there, expecting Ignis to defend himself, but when it became apparent he wasn’t going to address the issue, the Shield stormed away, footsteps receding up the stairs. Ignis waited for the sound of him to fade before he allowed his forehead to come to rest on the cool marble, closing his eyes.

It was another hour before he finally got up to sweep the glass from the floor, unanswered emails still pulled up on his computer screen. He left the kitchen way past midnight, intent on going to bed in spite of feeling like he had stuck his finger in an electrical socket. He was passing Gladio’s bedroom when he saw the light on under the door. He stopped, deliberating. 

It was unlocked, and Gladio looked up from where he was reading when Ignis poked his head in, the lamplight making the room glow a warm yellow.

“I’m sorry.”

Gladio set the book aside and held his arms out.

“It’s okay, I messed up too. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. Still love me?”

Relieved, Ignis went to him, letting himself be swept under the bedsheets.

“Of course I do. I’ll call Noctis in the morning. Just...there is still a part of me that does not know how to balance my duty as his advisor with my responsibilities as his partner—the gray area terrifies me.”

Gladio patted Ignis’s head, then kissed both of his eyelids. He liked the way Ignis’s eyelashes fluttered against his beard.

“Who are we fooling? The press will have a field day when they find out the truth, and we will all be dismissed from the Crownsguard. We won’t be able to walk down the street in broad daylight, let alone live in Insomnia ever again.”

“Or—we’ll live happily ever after.” Ignis rolled his eyes, head jabbing under Gladio’s chin.

“Happily ever after only happens in fairytales.”

“Well, we _are_ in love with a prince.”

It made Gladio happy to see the ghost of a smile cross Ignis’s face.

* * *

Gladio and Prompto stood outside the doors of the throne room in their Crownsguard fatigues. Noctis and Ignis had been inside for over an hour, and still showed no signs of emerging. Prompto swayed from side-to-side, doing what they all liked to affectionately refer to as his ‘chocobo dance.’ He did it when he was exceptionally nervous—or when he had to pee. This time, it was the former, and Gladio could hardly blame the guy. He was nervous, too, although he’d never admit it—palms sweating, pulse speeding like a car on an open highway.

_I think I’m gonna be sick._

Prompto was humming something under his breath, a tune Gladio belatedly recognized as a funeral march. Resisting the urge to pull the blond in close for a hug, he nudged him instead, offering his most winning smile.

_Fake it ‘til you make it._

“Hey. It’s gonna be okay,” he reassured him. Prompto nibbled on his lip nervously.

“How do you _know_?” Prompto murmured.

Gladio didn’t have an answer, but luckily he didn’t need to provide one. The doors were swinging open, and they stood at attention, the silhouette of Regis on the throne in the background looming like a dark cloud as their two partners stepped into the hall, faces drawn tight.

Prompto started to shake, unable to contain it any longer, tears welling in the corners of his eyes. “Oh gods—oh gods—”

“How did it go?” Gladio felt short of breath, a little dizzy. Ignis was shaking his head, gaze downturned along with his lips.

“Guys, I…” Noctis trailed off helplessly. Ignis cleared his throat, and Prompto’s knees buckled as he clung to Gladio, unable to stand.

“I should have known His Majesty wouldn’t let us be together,” Gladio muttered, expression darkening. His heart ached, sinking in his chest.

One hand coming to cover his mouth, Ignis’s shoulders quivered, not meeting their eyes. Then, suddenly, a grin split Noctis’s face, spanning from ear to ear.

Prompto blinked through his tears. “Oh man—he’s _broken!_ ”

“He said yes,” Noctis stated simply. Ignis laughed, no longer able to contain his joy.

Gladio and Prompto both stared, dumbfounded, Noctis’s statement not processing in their brains.

“I was gonna drag it out a little longer, but your _faces_ —!” Noctis cackled now, the sound bouncing off the tile. Prompto groaned, falling to his knees and slapping the ground as his body went limp.

“ _Dude_ —too soon!”

“Wait—you’re serious? You’re _really_ serious?” Gladio didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe. He couldn’t—afraid he might wake up from his dream. Ignis was nodding emphatically, not trusting himself to speak in case he burst into tears, Noctis still smiling. They all experienced the same emotional whiplash, going from devastated to overjoyed faster than Gladio could say—

“You _little_ fucker!” The Shield made a mad grab for the prince, but Noctis warped out of reach, sprinting down the hall as Gladio gave chase with a whoop, a gaggle of very surprised servants watching the strange events unfold from their position in the corner.

“Iggy!” Prompto was on his feet suddenly, like a flower that had just been watered, he perked up instantly. “Kiss me—I must be dreaming!” Ignis, chuckling at the sounds of Gladio and Noctis wrestling in the distance, swept Prompto into his arms, and not caring who saw, planted a firm kiss on his mouth, crushing their bodies together passionately. The blond giggled, hugging the advisor tightly, and they staggered after the two they had lost, finding them in varying states of undress in the nearest elevator.

The ride down was filled with laughter, and sloppy kisses, and ass grabs and dry humping. Somehow, Gladio lost his shirt, and they stumbled out of the Citadel and into the sunlight, everything seeming more dazzling and brighter than ever before.

They were _free._

“Oh, oh, let me get this shot!” Prompto whipped out his phone, and they took a selfie on the steps, the photographer throwing up a peace sign for good measure. They all crowded around to look at it after, voicing their approval.

“Gladio, it looks like you’re naked,” Noctis snorted.

“My glasses are crooked.”

“Nice smile, Noct.”

“This one’s going on the fridge,” Prompto decided as they piled into the car idling at the curb.

Fingers intertwined, feet in laps, heads on shoulders, laughter in the air—they pulled away from the Citadel—towards home.

* * *

They had the music cranked up as loud as it could go, windows down as they took the highway out of the city.

It finally felt like spring—a little cooler in the evenings, but pleasant enough for only a light jacket, and no one was bothered by the wind that whipped into the cab of the car. Gladio had undone his seatbelt when Ignis wasn’t looking so he could slide closer to Prompto in the backseat, one hand pressed into the small of the blond’s back as the other snaked in-between his legs.

Prompto had turned his head, heavy breathing fogging up the glass, praying that Ignis wouldn’t look into the rearview any time soon.

Ignis was too busy keeping his eyes on the road to notice immediately though, and Noctis’s fingers drummed idly to the song where his hand rested on the center console.

The radio replaced their need to discuss what had happened last night, although they would eventually.

For now, they let the road carry them further and further away from civilization, until the only lights they could see came from the stars above and the headlights.

There was a break in the music, which was filled by Prompto’s whine of pleasure, and both Noctis and Ignis turned their heads. Ignis’s foot let off the gas and he pulled over on the shoulder. Gladio paused, hand still working inside Prompto’s pants, the two practically horizontal.

“Really?” Noctis was laughing and had turned all the way around in his seat to watch, arms wrapped around the headrest.

“You couldn’t wait until we set up camp?” Ignis chided, unbuckling his seat belt once he put the car in park.

“Nope.” Gladio sounded pleased with himself, and now that he had an audience, pushed Prompto flat, lifting his hips to slide the man’s clothes off in one fluid movement, leaving him bare-assed on the leather.

“H-hey—!”

“No fair. I want a piece of that.” Noctis’s eyes were half lidded like a cat’s. Prompto felt himself blushing, erection curving up against his stomach.

“Get back here then, princess.” Gladio put Prompto’s feet on his shoulders, unbuckling his belt with devious intent.

Ignis gripped the steering wheel tightly, eyes watching the two in the mirror as heat stirred in his groin.

“Wait a moment,” Ignis said, and everyone stopped as he got out of the car, bending to lift the lever that slid the front seat forward. Noctis, grinning, followed his example. They climbed into the back, made roomier now that they had moved the seats up as far as they would go, and crouched beside Gladio and Prompto. 

“You want first bite?” Gladio offered to Noctis, and the prince grinned like a daemon, taking hold of Prompto’s erection and teasing it with his mouth.

“Sweet Bahamut—” Prompto keened, and Ignis leaned forward on his knees to silence him with a kiss.

“This is supposed—to be— _Gladio’s_ —birthday weekend,” Prompto gasped between moans and making out with Ignis.

“And _my_ honeymoon.” Noctis’s mouth slid along the length of Prompto’s cock as Gladio bounced Prompto’s ass in his lap.

“Oh _GODS_ —” Prompto was _crying_ , but no one was about to show him mercy.

“Will you guys marry me?”

Prompto lost it, and Noctis turned his head to avoid choking, letting Gladio get the brunt of the mess as it dripped in-between Prompto’s legs, thick and sticky.

“I just cleaned this car,” Ignis tsked.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it.” Noctis dragged his tongue all along Prompto’s thighs and the blond shuddered, freckled face a pretty shade of pink.

“That’s hot.” Gladio pulled Noctis’s head up by his hair for a sloppy kiss. “And yes, duh.”

“Is that— _legal_?” Prompto groaned, limp and content as his legs slid away from Gladio’s neck and to either side of the Shield’s abdomen.

“When I’m king I’ll make it legal.”

“Then I guess it’s a hell yeah for me,” Prompto giggled, a hand running along his abs to wipe away a trail of sweat. Noctis readjusted so he was pressed to Gladio’s side, and the shirts were coming off.

Gladio and Noctis both looked across the backseat to where Ignis was watching them, a strange look in his eye.

“Iggy?” Noctis asked.

Why was he so nervous? He’d fallen asleep naked beside him countless times. They’d pulled all-nighters studying, and Ignis had cooked the prince soup when he was sick. Ignis had been the one who taught him how to dance, and made sure he ate his vegetables. He’d known Ignis his whole life. They had told each other _I love you._ But something about this was different, and he was afraid that if he looked away, Ignis might disappear like a dream.

“To marry you would be my greatest honor.” Noctis gave a slow, shy smile, but it was ruined by Prompto and Gladio’s chortling.

“Really, Ignis? Your _greatest honor_? What the hell man, this isn’t _Mulan_.” Gladio laughed louder.

The prince swatted at Gladio, fingers raking across one tattooed arm.

“Leave my fiancé alone,” he protested, a little giddy.

“Well then, now that we’re all in agreement, shall we continue to our destination?” Ignis’s suggestion was met with two ‘yeah’s and a sleepy thumbs up from Prompto. After everyone had collected themselves, Ignis resumed his place in the driver’s seat, pulling back onto the open road.

He couldn’t stop smiling all the way to the haven.

* * *

“I swear to the gods if you put your cold feet on me _one more time_.” Ignis hears Gladio in the dark, followed by an ‘oof!’ from Prompto and a small scuffle.

Noctis groan-growls like a bear being poked with a stick.

Ignis reaches across Gladio from behind to pat Prompto lightly on the head.

“How’d I get stuck next to Noct? He’s taking up the whole tent!”

“He takes up the whole tent no matter who he’s next to. It makes the most sense for him to be on the end instead of the middle.” Gladio’s explanation sounds logical, but Ignis knows he stuck the smaller man in the middle to avoid getting a knee to the crotch later in the night when Noctis inevitably moves in his sleep.

“I’ll take the middle tomorrow night,” Ignis promises, and this placates Prompto enough that he settles down, sticking a leg in-between Gladio’s thighs while he hugs Noctis tightly from behind.

They listen to the crickets chirping outside.

“Guys…what’s gonna happen? Now that the wedding is called off, I mean? The king isn’t just gonna let all of this slide, is he?” Prompto wonders.

“Well, after Noct talked to his dad, he agreed to let us go on this trip, so I’d say that’s a good thing.” Gladio ruffles Prompto’s hair, inhaling the scent of the campfire smoke that lingers within the golden strands. “It’ll give the press a little more time to get over it, and by the time we come back, they’ll have something else to talk about.” 

“I believe His Majesty realized that his son’s happiness was more important than forcing a decision on him, no matter how much it might benefit Insomnia,” Ignis murmurs.

“Oh—hey! Gladio, happy birthday!” Prompto begins to hum the melody to the birthday song and Gladio plasters a sloppy kiss under his ear, making the blond squeal.

“Yes, happy birthday.” Ignis’s mouth is soft and sultry, trailing under Gladio’s hairline and down to his shoulder blade.

“Camping? _And_ all my favorite boys in one spot? Best birthday _ever._ ”

“Wait—better than we did Disney karaoke and Ignis got drunk and blew you in the shower?”

“Wasn’t that _your_ birthday last year?”

Prompto thinks about it for a moment.

“Oooh, yeah, you’re right! I dressed up in Iris’s clothes and we took pictures. My stage name was Lady Brittina.”

“I still remember how stunning your legs looked in that skirt,” Ignis muses.

“Weird flex, but okay,” Gladio grunts.

“I bet Noctis would look good in a skirt.” Prompto is glad there isn’t any light to see by so the other two won’t catch him drooling. Noctis mutters something sleepily and the rest of them lean in, listening hard.

“…ca…ke.”

“…cake?” Prompto nudges Noctis in the side with one foot. “Hey buddy, you awake?” They wait.

A moment later there is a mumbled, “Cake, baby.”

They start to laugh hysterically without really knowing why, trying at first to keep their voices down, but giving up after a couple failed attempts. After holding everything in for so long, it feels good to not have to. Eventually there comes the pitter-patter of something outside and Prompto turns, wiggling into Gladio’s chest.

“Ooh, it’s raining,” Prompto notes, excitement in his tone.

Ignis rolls onto his back.

“Yes, I did see some precipitation in the forecast, but tomorrow is supposed to be clear skies with the temperature rising.”

“Sounds like a perfect day for an adventure,” Gladio yawns, stretching out both arms to wrap around Ignis and Prompto.

Ignis inhales deeply and focuses on the sensation of Gladio’s arm around him coupled with Prompto and Noctis’s soft breaths, eyes sliding shut—heavy with satisfaction.

“Indeed, it does,” he says. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song Prompto is singing in the beginning of this chapter is "The Middle" by Jimmy Eat World, a reference to my Altissian Academy fic.  
> Don't be shy, I reply to all comments! :) Thank you for reading.


	4. Author's Notes & Bonus Content

Thank you to everyone who has read this fic! To date, it remains my favorite that I have written (other than "Write Drunk, Email Sober") and I'm happy to say I will be commissioning some art for it very soon by the wonderful @nagifry, which I will link here when it's done. In addition, please check out the sequel to this work, "The Long and Short of It All," and look out for a third fic hopefully sometime this year! 

Those of you who know me, know that I take a lot of inspiration from music, so please enjoy the playlist I compiled for this fic.

**“Let it Go” cover by Anthem Lights**

_The wind is howling like this swirling storm inside / Couldn't keep it in, heaven knows I've tried / Don't let them in, don't let them see / Be the good man you always have to be / Conceal, don't feel, don't let them know / Well, now they know / Let it go, let it go / Can't hold it back anymore_

  * Although it’s meant to be a lighthearted joke when the guys are discussing whether Frozen or the Little Mermaid is better, I really love the song “Let it Go” for this fic because I think it captures that struggle of wanting to be yourself, but feeling like you need to hide yourself from the world. That internal conflict is what all of the bros must overcome in order to be together.



**“Pocketful of Sunshine” cover by Boyce Avenue**

_I got a pocket, got a pocketful of sunshine / I got a love, and I know that it's all mine / Oh, oh whoa / Do what you want, but you're never gonna break me / Sticks and stones are never gonna shake me / No, oh whoa_

  * The song Prompto is singing in the shower. Again, supposed to be a silly moment, but the lyrics are all about holding on to love in the face of adversity.



**“Cha Cha Slide – Hardino Mix” by DJ Casper**

_Clap your hands everybody / Slide to the left / Take it back now y'all / One hop this time / Right foot let's stomp / Left foot let's stomp / Cha-cha now y'all / To the left / Take it back now y'all_

  * Purely for shits and giggles, this is a song that can get literally anyone to get up and dance, and I love the idea of the bros just cutting loose in their kitchen and being silly in front of one another.



**“If I Ain’t Got You” cover by Maroon 5**

_Some people live for the fortune / Some people live just for the fame / Some people live for the power / Some people live just to play the game / Some people think that the physical things define what's within / And I have been there / before, and that life's a bore / So full of the superficial / Some people want it all / But I don't want nothing at all / If it ain't you baby_

  * This is, hands down, one of my favorite love songs, and the cover by Maroon 5 is amazing. The theme of putting love above all else and ignoring all the material in pursuit of it is again, something that the bros all struggle with, but especially Ignis and Noctis. Them dancing in the kitchen here is an echo of things to come.



**“Candy Shop” by 50 Cent**

_I'll take you to the candy shop (yeah) / Boy, one taste of what I got (uh-huh) / I'll have you spending all you got (come on) / Keep going 'til you hit the spot, whoa / You could have it your way, how do you want it? / You gon' back that thing up, or should I push up on it? / Temperature rising, okay, let's go to the next level / Dance floor jam-packed, hot as a tea kettle_

  * I don’t think of Gladio as being very outwardly mushy or affectionate. My head cannon is that he’s more of a secret romantic, so to me he’d totally be the one to put forth that “manly” façade of needing to be dirty and sexual to communicate his affection—which makes rap songs like Candy Shop the perfect choice for him.



**“The Middle” by Jimmy Eat World**

_Hey, don't write yourself off yet / It's only in your head you feel left out / Or looked down on / Just do your best, do everything you can / And don't you worry what the bitter hearts, are gonna say_

  * Prompto has such a kind heart and soul, and the 90’s grunge, pop, and indie bands I think would speak to him. This song by Jimmy Eat World has that wistfully hopeful vibe that I think he’d connect with while he’s trying to deal with his own turbulent emotions and the emotions of his partners.



**“You Are in Love” cover by Travis Atreo**

_You two are dancing in a snow globe, go round and round / And he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown / You understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars / And why I've spent my whole life try to put it into words / 'Cause you can hear in the silence / You can feel it on the way home / You can see it with the lights out / You are in love, true love / You're in love_

  * This song is mostly for Ignoct as Ignis comes to term with the fact that he loves Noctis too much to give him up, and for the sake of all their relationships, has to take that scary leap of faith to make things official between them.



**“Moments Like This” by The Afters**

_I try to take a breath / Thoughts racing through my head / I try to capture it, but a picture can't hold what a heart is feeling / I just wanna stop the world from spinning / Slow it all down for a minute so that I can take it in, I can take it in_

  * In this fic, I tried to capture a lot of snapshots of domestic life, and how all the little moments contribute to an overall relationship. I wanted to convey that feeling of wanting to hold on to a moment because you only get it once, taking a picture in your head and heart, and wishing time would slow down.



**“About Love” by Marina**

_Started in the strangest way / Didn't see it coming / Swept up in your hurricane / Wouldn't give it up for nothing / Now I'm all caught up in the highs and the lows / It's a shock to my system / I don't wanna run away so I stay / My head gets messy when I try to hide / The things I love about you in my mind / I don't really know a lot about love / A lot about love, a lot about love / But you're in my head, you're in my blood / And it feels so good, it hurts so much_

  * Love is messy and imperfect, and no one quite understands it. And even more so in polyamorous relationships. All the bros know is that they want to try, because what they have is too precious to give up, and this fic is all about figuring it out.



**“Someone to You” by Banners**

_And if the sun's upset and the sky goes cold / Then if the clouds get heavy and start to fall / I really need somebody to call my own / I wanna be somebody to someone / Someone to you_

  * This song resonates with each of the guys as they want to be that person for each other—they want to be able to call each other “theirs”—forever, and not just temporarily.



**“Feel Good” by Illenium**

_Yeah, sometimes I need someone to pick me up / Overdose my mind with the things I love / You can take me there / When my heart beats / When my heart beats free / Take my hand in the middle of a crisis / Pull me close, show me, baby, where the light is / I was scared of a heart I couldn't silence / But you make me, you make me feel good / I like it_

  * I feel that most people’s tendency is to pull away when they’re going through a tough time. We see that in this fic in how everyone deals with their problems differently and tries to run from their own emotions, but ultimately, love wins out.



**“Easy” by Camila Cabello**

_You really, really know me / The future and the old me / All of the mazes and madness in my mind / You really, really love me / You know me and you love me / And it's the kind of thing I always hoped I'd find, yeah / Always thought I was hard to love / 'Til you made it seem so easy, seem so easy_

  * Everything seems hard until the bros give in to their love for one another, and after that, it’s _easy_ , because everything falls into place for them.



**“I Want Us” by The Roads Below**

_Do you remember then / Back when we were just friends / You were scared and swore to me / You’d never love again / But you didn’t know I can't just let you take it back / I’ll fight for everything we ever had / I want us / I want tough / I want the late night fights about trust / I wanna scream at the top of my lungs / Can you hear me, I can’t hear you_

  * This song is all about love conquering through tough times and conversations and wanting to stick together even as circumstances try to drive you apart. Needless to say, it was perfect for this story.



**“Drive” by Ben Rector**

_Remember when we were young and free? / Oh, the way it used to be / Tell me, can we go back? / Three point two from the driveway of my house / To your apartment where I am waiting now / Like a river connects to the ocean / This pavement touches wherever we go, and / White lines flyin' by, who knows what we'll find / You and me tonight / Drive_

  * This is one of three songs that I enjoyed for the last scene in the story where they are driving away from Insomnia, literally leaving their worries behind in order to be together. Obviously, the car and driving imagery fits, but so do the themes.



**“Speed Limit” by Boyce Avenue**

_If you want somebody to love you / You know I will / If you want somebody to need you / You know I will / So baby, get up / Come on, get in the fast lane / You are the one / That's got a hold on me / I say we got to live our lives / Yeah with no speed limit_

  * I love this song for how carefree it feels—that lightness of getting rid of a heavy burden and just going full speed ahead and into what the future holds.



**“Belong” by Cash Cash, Dashboard Confessional**

_Reach out and take my hand / We got the radio pumping jams / We don't got no map and we don't got plans / We don't gotta follow anyone's demands / Feel the wind blowing in your hair / The sun on your face and a song in the air / We can go as fast as we'll ever dare / Until we see tomorrow in the rearview mirror / 'Cause you, you belong with me / And I belong with you_

  * Of all the songs that have inspired me, this one takes the number one spot for OT4 vibes for me. In all honesty, it inspired the majority of this fics ending. Finally, they are free, and not only that, they belong together, and they know it. In the end, love triumphs overall.




	5. Author’s Update!

Hey everybody!

For those of you who enjoyed this story and The Long and Short of It All, I encourage you to subscribe to my current WIP, “All in the Family,” which is the third installment in this series.

The fic updates every Friday :) Thanks for your support!

I also have one more fic in mind after that one is finished if you’re interested in more OT4 goodness.

04.01.2020

(And no, this isn’t an April Fool’s joke haha)

**Author's Note:**

> MysteriousBean did some lovely fanart for the scene between Ignis and Noctis in the tailor's fitting room. Check it out on tumblr [here](https://mysteriousbean5.tumblr.com/post/186261343641/a-little-scene-from-hard-noct-life-s-fic-I)
> 
> For more fluffy OT4, check out my sequel to this work: The Long and Short of It All


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